Almost
by Ponderess
Summary: "The guilt is what stings the most. Once you've eradicated that from your mind the pain becomes less excruciating. Because going through 'what if'-scenarios in your head won't change anything. You can't turn back time and regret won't get you anywhere. Every long-term survivor knows that. Eren still has to learn it." [Post Chapter 31/Episode 21; Eren/Levi, but onesided]


_**Notes:**__ I had some troubles to continue working on my Annie/Eren fic, so I tried a little Eren/Levi. I attempted a realistic take on the matter, because I honestly think that even if Levi developed feelings or some kind of physical attraction towards Eren, he wouldn't act on them. So no, no smut, not even kissing. (Now I only have to write an Annie/Eren/Levi fic and I have explored my OT3 in all possible variations - at least to some extend.)_

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**Almost**

Loss is something you get never used to. Over time you learn to deal with it – those frequently faced with it faster so than those who only rarely experience it – but it still hurts every time. Admittedly, I still remember the face of the first soldier who died under my command, while with rising numbers the faces become more vague and blurred together. But the burden of their deaths weighs heavy on my shoulders nonetheless.

The guilt is what stings the most. Once you've eradicated that from your mind the pain becomes less excruciating. Because going through 'what if'-scenarios in your head won't change anything. You can't turn back time and regret won't get you anywhere. Every long-term survivor knows that.

Eren still has to learn it. He knows the loss, but he's still too caught up with wanting to prevent it at all costs. He has yet to come to terms with the fact that nothing is gained without sacrifices. And with his stubborn head he probably won't accept it very soon.

Seeing him so downcast, his wild spirit crushed by our loss and defeat in the mission, is – though I don't like to admit it – quite heartwrenching. It's almost worse than the loss of my comrades. Because it's the little things that I didn't even consider to prepare for that almost throw me off track.

Almost.

The old castle is too big for two people, two people who just returned from battle while having to leave the bodies of others behind. Their ghosts haunt the stone walls of it: Petra caringly looking after her comrades, Oluo boasting about his achievements, Gunter staying level-headed even when chaos ensues, Eld focussing on matters at hand – without even realising I have catalogued these things in my mind. Something to remember them by.

I wonder what Eren is thinking of while he's staring at the wall opposite of him, barely touching the food on his plate. What moments is he recalling? Maybe the last meal we ate here together before the mission? Maybe something I can't possibly guess.

I have no words of comfort to offer, so I leave him in silence. Empathy was never my stronghold. When you close off your feelings as much as possible, you can't just dig them up to show someone sympathy. And I don't think he expects me to comfort him – though I'm really not sure how he sees me at all.

Eren cleans off our dishes dutifully. I wouldn't have asked him to, though I notice my injured leg doesn't mind me sitting out on the task. He excuses himself to disappear into the basement to sleep while I make myself some tea. I've adopted this ceremonial habit after joining the Survey Corps. It tastes better than plain water and for someone who doesn't like the effects of alcohol it's pretty much the only alternative. But I also like the calmness that is caused by the warm liquid running down my throat.

My thoughts wander to Eren. I've never allowed myself to think much about him beyond what was necessary for me as captain of the Survey Corps, so it's strange to do it in the current situation. But that boy really makes me wonder.

The first thing that struck me about him was his desire to kill all the titans. It's a feat we share and he expressed his wish with so much determination that I was sure nothing would hold him back if he set his mind on something. I looked at him and thought that nothing could break him.

But everything can be broken, everything can be crushed – sometimes it just needs more time or immense force or both. And he's still just a kid in a way, a kid who knows the cruelty of this world. He has yet to see it all in its horrible glory and it will break him down and who knows if he'll continue to pick himself up or if he'll just surrender at some point.

I honestly hope it's not the latter, I wouldn't know how to cope with that. Because even though I don't like to admit it my care and consideration for Eren has gone beyond the standard I hold for all soldiers under my command. I don't know how to place it or name it – I'm not sure I want to.

It's not his endeavour to show his good will and to follow my orders. Though I do welcome his obedience as his superior, the fact that he seems intimidated by me makes me a little uncomfortable on a personal level. I was impressed by his fire and determination – seeing him shrink back from me leaves me wondering if I overestimated his fierceness.

What actually gets me about him – I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe his youthful energy wakes a sense of nostalgia in me, though I never had anything left for naïve ideologies in my life. Maybe I just want to protect him how I never got protected at his age. Maybe it has less to do with who I was and more to do with who he is. I'm intrigued by him that I cannot deny.

Intuition and these lingering thoughts lead me to the basement after I've finished my tea. There's no need to tie him up for the night anymore since we've ascertained that a random transformation in his sleep is close to unlikely. So I don't even try to delude myself that I'm following a sense of duty here. I know that Eren is having a hard time coping and I know that he has no one to confide in. And that's why I cannot just leave him to himself like this.

I only hesitate a little before opening the door to his room. Only as I've pushed down the handle I think that maybe I should've knocked, but it's too late now anyway, so I enter with just a little less determination.

Eren is facing the wall, but he stirs and turns at the sound of my footsteps. His expression is surprised almost shocked as his eyes discover me. I can distinguish a glint of tears on his cheeks in the dim torchlight. My heart feels tighter in my chest. He shouldn't have to cry, I really don't want him to.

To give him some privacy and to have an excuse to tear my eyes away I turn to carefully close the door. When I face him again he is just finishing the quick motions of his hand to dry his cheeks. He eyes me with uncertainty and it's like I can almost see him hold his breath. Or maybe I'm just imagining it, because I want him to forget about his sorrow for a bit – and because I like the thought.

Words are useless now. My words at least. Instead I retreat to gestures. His gaze is hefted on me as I walk over to him. I can almost taste the nervousness dripping from his pores. Though I doubt he can guess the thoughts that tuck at the back of my mind.

I sit down at his bedside and use his perplexity to pull him into a hug. At first Eren stiffens at the unexpected touch, but soon he loosens up and buries his head on my neck. I stroke his back as he's clutching onto me and sobs are rocking his body.

My lips grace his temple. I pretend it's like the soft kiss of a parent, though I know I rather think of him like a lover would. But Eren doesn't know that – he doesn't have to. His mother died and his father disappeared when he was ten. How would he know how a grown-up would display his care and affection for him? How would he know how to distinguish a parent's love from a man's desire?

He doesn't and I know how to mask it. That little slip will be almost meaningless.

'I'm sorry, captain,' Eren mumbles against my neck.

I think I know where this is going, so I shush him.

'Fatalities are part of the missions. You cannot save everyone.'

'But-'

'No 'but',' I interrupt him quietly but with insistence, before he can even finish the thought. 'None of it is your fault, Eren. Do you hear me? None of it!'

He pulls away from me, averting his face. I know he's avoiding to meet my gaze, because of the guilt that tears at him. I can almost feel it build up to be expressed, already see the objection form on his lips. So I put my hands to his head and make him look at me. My intense gaze traps the words on his tongue.

'Stop thinking it,' I almost order him in the same silent intensity as before. 'Regret will eat you up alive – I should know.'

Eren's eyes shift over my face with a sense of wonder. Probably he doesn't know how to place my behaviour. It's unusual for me to become personal, even if it's only to this small amount.

'The best thing you can do is to live on and carry their will as you continue to fight,' I insist.

It won't just dissolve the guilt into nothingness, but I hope that it will gradually chase it away as Eren begins to understand and learns how to cope. I fight the urge to gently tuck back some of his hair. That would be pushing the limits too far.

There's a moment of silence in which we just look at each other. I wonder if he's onto me, if he can tell that I'm closer than I should be, if he minds. My hands still hold his head in place. He doesn't seem like he'd turn away again, so I let go. Without touching him my fingers feel almost useless in my lap. There's not even a backrest I can drape my arm over like I tend to do.

'You should sleep,' I suggest, because I know I cannot drag out the moment any longer.

Eren nods and slides onto his pillow obediently. I allow myself to pull up his covers up to his chest. He still doesn't comment on my unusually caring demeanour. I catch myself thinking that he's still just a kid. And I know that's mainly why I refrain myself from desiring him as a man as much as possible – because he's just not that yet. I don't even have to think about the fact that he's my subordinate.

Maybe part of the appeal is that I cannot have him. Because I know I would ruin him more than this world already ruined him. He cannot meet me on eyelevel yet. He's still too easily influenced. I could form him whatever way I wanted, but that would be selfish. He has to grow on his own beyond the youthful stubbornness.

'Are you feeling a little better,' I ask almost gently, because I really need to know.

Eren gives a short nod: 'Yeah.'

Then, after a pause: 'Thank you.'

I don't tell him that he's welcome or that it was my pleasure – any of those standardised replies. They might ring true this time, but it's not my style. However, I almost lean in to give him another kiss on the cheek to wish him goodnight. I stop myself in the last instance. That's not my style either.

Instead I squeeze his hand a little as a parting. Then I leave him alone in his room, taking a deep breath as soon as I've closed the door behind me. I release it into the empty hallway. Then I head to my own quarters, tucking away the thoughts that snuck up on me between the gentle gestures and the kind words.

I almost would've stayed until Eren was asleep, so I can be sure that he gets some rest.

Almost.


End file.
